


Bathroom Walls ; (peterick au)

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Band, Emo!Pete, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Peterick, Peterick - Freeform, Romance, Ryden, not graphic, sunshine!patrick, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-11 15:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's just a ray of sunshine that fell in love with the sad boy who writes on the bathroom walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

**Author's Note:**

> {Disclaimer: I quite obviously, though rather unfortunately, do not own any of the members of Fall Out Boy. Nor do I own Taylor Jardine, the members of Panic! At The Disco or any celebrities I may happen to base characters off. The songs referenced are not mine and all will be credited at the end. (The song used will also be the title of each chapter.) The plotline, conversations and setting are however entirely created in my imagination (as are various other characters). This is purely a work of fiction and resemblance to real life events are accidental.}

“I swear to god if you don’t let me go to the bathroom soon I will piss all over your bitch ass,” I mumbled, waving my hand frantically in an attempt to gain the attention of my half deaf and half blind English teacher.

Andy, who was seated next to me, laughed slightly at my threat and I internally hoped he was the only one who had witnessed that. “That’s an odd kink Patrick,” he joked, nudging me lightly with his elbow. I rolled my eyes at his statement and switched arms, my left one having begun to lose a serious amount of blood due to being raised for so long.

I heard a splat from the desk on the other side of mine, occupied by my friend Tay, and glanced over to see a chewed up wad of paper stuck to the wood just next to her textbook which was laying open in front of her. I looked around to see Brendon sitting two rows back from us, smiling proudly like he’d just won a Nobel Prize rather than launch a spit-ball at an innocent classmate. I’d never spoken to Brendon, but he seemed like a nice enough kid – if you ignored his apparent need to have his saliva on every desk in the entire school. When I turned back to Tay I saw her carefully wedging her ruler under the spit-ball. Once she had removed it from the table, she flicked it backwards over her head without even checking to see where it landed. I suppose she had already figured out who was responsible for it; that didn’t take a genius.

I mentioned that I’d never had much interaction with Brendon. He was really just the kid who sat at the back of my English and History classes and decided on his next victim. I’d been lucky enough to escape his wrath so far, though that might have been due to the fact that I was Ryan’s neighbour and we occasionally walked to school together (Ryan being Brendon’s boyfriend). So I didn’t exactly know much about the kid but what happened next made me want to kiss him. (Maybe just on the forehead though, because I knew Ryan was protective and I suspect he could throw quite the punch when provoked.)

“Mr Urie, are you responsible for the abomination that Ms Jardine kindly just disposed of behind her?” Mrs Aitken asked, peering over the top of her spectacles. I had no idea how she had even noticed the earlier incident considering her usual unawareness of any of the class’ antics, but I was just thankful she was now paying attention to the students seated in front of her. I threw my hand even higher in the air and wiggled my fingers in an attempt to get the blood flowing again.

“Yes, Mr Stump?” she sighed and I finally let my arm drop, feeling it rush back to life as I flexed my fingers.

“May I go to the bathroom?” I asked and she nodded, muttering “Be quick.” as I stood from my seat. I rushed to the door at the front of the classroom and heard Mrs Aitken giving Brendon an after school detention just as I left.

I let out a heavy breath as I strolled through the corridor of the English wing, not bothering to hurry as I was in no rush to get back to Mrs Aitken’s lesson. There were toilets in the Science wing, just next to where my classroom was, but I quite conveniently _“forgot”_ and instead headed to the outside toilets, across the oval.

The wind had picked up since that morning and I found myself wishing I’d taken my jumper with me instead of leaving it lying on my bedroom floor. As I trudged across the short grass of the school’s oval I stared at my feet, keeping the biting wind out of my face. At the one point when I did raise my head I was glad I did, because someone else was walking towards me and he certainly wasn’t paying attention. His head was bent down and the hood of his non-school uniform jumper was pulled up, but I could just see a black fringe covering part of his face. His arms were wrapped across his stomach and his hands cupped his elbows. I noticed black nail polish on his fingers and I wondered if I could work out who he was from that as I didn’t know an awful lot of guys who wore nail polish, especially since it was against school policy. It seemed this guy couldn’t care less about rules and dress code.

I was going to stop and talk to him as he passed, maybe strike up a conversation and actually find out what his face looked like, but he just hurried right past without so much as glancing in my direction. I turned to watch him walking back to the school’s main building, his whole body hunched over as though trying to make himself as small as possible. I kept staring at him as he walked, all the way until he disappeared inside. It did cross my mind that it was a little creepy and probably made me seem like a bit of a stalker but there was something about the boy that intrigued me. I planned on figuring out who he was before the end of the year, and perhaps befriend him, but I decided to shrug it off in the meantime and focus on the problem at hand; I was a few seconds away from wetting my pants.

Luckily I managed to make it in time – it would be rather embarrassing for an eighteen year old in his last year of high school to have an _accident_ on the way to the bathroom – and I started reading the writing left by previous occupants. There were the usual crude drawings of various genitals, random poems written out of boredom and the attention seeking “I want to die” statements. But there was one quote, written in small messy handwriting that I almost didn’t notice and it was this that caught my attention. It sounded to me like song lyrics and I wondered if it was a song I didn’t know or if someone had made it up.

_they say quitters never win_  
 _but we walk the plank on a sinking ship_  
 _there’s a world outside of my front door_  
 _that gets off on being down_

I reread the words again and again, sounding them out in my head. They were beautiful, really, and I could almost hear the tune starting to form. I had an immense need to know who wrote it, just to thank them for pouring such perfection from a pen onto a tiled bathroom wall above a urinal. My thoughts flashed to the boy with black nail polish and I wondered if perhaps he had written it. I dismissed the thought almost immediately because, although it could be him, I was making connections that probably didn’t exist.

I continued to think about the lyrics as I washed my hands and they were still on my mind while I walked back to English. I was almost certain Mrs Aitken was asleep behind her desk as I slipped in the classroom and sat down between Andy and Tay.

“You took your time,” Andy commented as I picked up my pen to start working.

“Were you getting off?” Tay asked, leaning across my desk to talk to Andy and me.

“No Taylor Jardine, I was not. And you need to clean out your mouth, what would your mother say?” I retorted. Tay grinned, her nose crinkling and causing her piercing to glint in the sunlight streaming through the classroom windows.

“You didn’t have a problem with my dirty mouth last night,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Andy coughed and sat up straighter, staring between the two of us.

“Y-you what?”

Tay laughed and shook her head; I had to crack a smile as well because Andy’s expression was just priceless.

“Oh Andy bear, you precious, little child. I’d never do Patrick, don’t you think I’ve got better taste than that?”

“Hey!” I slapped the side of her head lightly, the grin slipping from my face and becoming a glare.

“Mr Stump! Please do not abuse Ms Jardine. We’d like to keep this a violence-free zone!”

I groaned as Mrs Aitken miraculously woke from her slumber at just the wrong moment. Tay’s tongue poked out between her teeth as she lifted herself from my desk and I raised a single finger in reply.

“Excuse me, Mr Stump! What was that?” Mrs Aitken’s voice rang out sharply and the whole class turned to look at Tay and I, causing my cheeks to heat in a blush. Before giving me a chance to even answer her question Mrs Aitken continued.

“I suppose you’d like to join Mr Urie in detention this afternoon. Well, you’re in luck. I’m sure he’ll enjoy the company.”

“No, please not today,” I said but I knew it was fruitless; there was no way she would take away my detention. I turned to glare at Tay instead, but she just gave me a little wave and continued to look immensely pleased with herself. Sometimes I wondered why I even considered her one of my best friends.

The lesson ended in almost complete silence, at least our group was silent anyway. I was pissed at Tay and Tay knew I was pissed at her but she was still congratulating herself on having got me detention and Andy was deliberately not siding with anyone because he avoids conflict whenever possible. My final lesson of the day was History and neither Andy nor Tay were in that class. In fact none of my friends shared that subject with me, but I usually just sat with Dallon as neither of us really knew anyone else. We’d partner up if we ever needed to but for the most part we each did our own thing which generally consisted of doodling in our lecture pads and ignoring anything being said by the teacher.

It was no different a History lesson to any other; I sat at our usual seats, second from the back, and smiled when Dallon entered, he nodded and sat beside me and we both proceeded to block out anything else.

I was still annoyed about the whole detention business; it could not have happened on a worse day. Mum was working late so I was in charge of taking care of Megan for the evening. Kevin had volunteered to pick her up from school but he was going out with some friends and, boy, would he be mad when I didn’t turn up on time and made him late. I considered skipping and just heading straight home but I was not prepared to undergo whatever harsh punishment Mrs Aitken reserved for students who were brave enough to skip detention. So when the bell signified the end of last lesson, instead of hurrying out to my locker, I trudged back to my English room and resigned myself to spending the afternoon in a stuffy classroom with a teacher I hated. At least this might be my chance to finally hold a conversation with Brendon.

Brendon wasn’t there. At first I assumed he was just running late (or rather, deliberately holding off on coming to detention), but after he didn’t rock up for over half an hour I started to have my doubts about him even joining me. Mrs Aitken seemed to have the same thought and she left to go and look for him, warning me not to disappear as well. It seemed a little stupid that she was just trusting me not to leave on my own accord.

I turned on my phone to find three slightly unpleasant texts from Kevin, telling me exactly what he thought of me and how much he hated me for not showing up on time. I typed a quick response, informing him that I was in detention. He wouldn’t take it well but I figured it would be better if he got mad now when I wasn’t there for him to punch, and maybe he would have calmed down by the time I got home.

Standing from my seat, I checked the corridor to make sure Mrs Aitken wasn’t returning from her search and, seeing no one, I left the room and hurried to my locker to grab the books I would need tonight.

It didn’t take me long to walk home as I didn’t live too far away, though I probably would have made it there quicker if I wasn’t so intent on postponing seeing Kevin. When I made it to the front door I paused to catch my breath before entering the house.

“You’d better explain to Mum what happened today and maybe next time fucking think about your responsibilities before getting yourself detention. Megan should be more important than any shit you pulled that got you in trouble.”

Kevin shoved my shoulder causing me to stumble backwards as he made his way to the door. I shrugged off his words, knowing he was just pissed and things would blow over soon. Once he had left I dropped my bag at the foot of the stairs and walked through to the sitting room to see Megan sitting cross-legged on the floor and struggling to force a princess dress onto one of her Barbie dolls.

“Hey Megs, how was school?” I greeted her, sitting down on the other side of her doll pile.

“Patty!” she squeaked excitedly and held out her arms, making grabby hands at me. I picked her up and swung her into my lap so she could wrap her arms around my neck. She sat down and handed me the half-dressed Barbie doll. I fixed it up for her and she jumped up, grabbing another doll and running round the room with them. I smiled as I watched her, knowing I should treasure this moment forever because one day she’d be all grown up and too old for her little made up games.

“Have you had anything to eat?” I asked as I rose to my feet, intending on preparing myself a snack. Megan shook her head and I headed to the kitchen to see what I could make for the two of us. In the end I rustled up some toast with Nutella and two glasses of milk. I brought a plate and a glass through for Megan, telling her to be careful and not spill anything, before taking the other food up to my room. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, with the intent of doing homework. However, as I clicked on the Google Chrome icon the writing on the bathroom wall came to my mind and I ended up typing the lyrics into the search bar. I scrolled through the links that came up but none of them seemed to have anything whatsoever to do with what I’d read on the wall. I leaned back in my chair, took a sip of my milk and made a decision. Tomorrow I would start investigating who had written those words. And the best way to do that would be to write a reply.


	2. America's Suitehearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please someone pick up on the Panic album reference in this chapter (((I couldn't resist)))
> 
> This chapter is short and trash, I know. It gets better.
> 
>  
> 
> [no it doesn't]

“Good morning Pattycakes, how was your day yesterday?” Tay smirked as I walked into home group. I glared at her and placed my books down on the desk next to Joe’s.

“It was great actually, no thanks to you.”

Tay laughed and started to explain the events of English class yesterday to Joe. I took a blue pen out of my pencil case and began to add to the doodles I’d been working on for the past few History lessons. I was focusing on drawing every detail of a drum kit when suddenly the table shuddered as someone slammed their books onto it and my pen slipped, drawing a jagged blue line through the bass drum. I looked up to see who had caused the ruining of my picture, fully prepared to give them a proper telling off. But I did not expect to see my best friend of thirteen years standing there.

“Spence! Oh my god!” I yelled, jumping to my feet and throwing my arms around his shoulders. I could feel most of the class turning to stare at the commotion behind them but at that moment I couldn’t care less. I hadn’t seen Spencer in almost two years and to say I missed him would be an understatement.

“Hey there Trick. Long time no see, huh?” he laughed softly into my shoulder as he hugged me back.

“Oh god, I’ve missed you.”

We released each other from the embrace and sat down at adjacent desks. I couldn’t stop smiling at him; my best friend actually sitting next to me again. _Finally_.

“So how come you’re back?” I asked, deciding it was time to get some answers about his sudden appearance after two years of absence.

“Dad finally grew a pair and left Mum so we moved back,” Spencer explained. I knew all about his parents’ relationship issues, being the only person he had talked to for his entire teenage years, and I was glad to hear his Mum was no longer in his life. I’d only met her once or twice but it was enough, paired with what Spencer had told me, to know that she was a cold-hearted bitch.

“Hello Spencer, nice to see you again,” Joe said, grinning as he leaned round me. I wouldn’t say Spencer was really close with any of my other friends because, by the time we started high school together, he was already well into his introverted stage where he spoke to no one (except me of course). It seemed he was always more of an object to the rest of them; he sat with us but didn’t speak and almost became part of the scenery. But it was still nice that Joe remembered him and was polite.

“Oh hey, um wait let me get this right.” Spencer looked deep in thought as he tried to figure out what Joe’s name was.

“Joe, right?” he finally said, his voice slightly unsure. We both cheered and he laughed again. I loved seeing him laugh. He looked so much happier than he was two years ago – no, not even just happier: he looked more emotional than ever before. I remembered the moment he told me he was leaving and he didn’t cry, he didn’t even look sad. I knew he _was_ sad because I could read him like a book, but his eyes were so dead. This happy, lively version of Spencer was certainly preferable.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name,” Spencer continued, looking at Tay. She’d only become our friend the year before so obviously neither of them knew one another.

“I’m Tay and yesterday I got Patrick detention.”

“ _You_ were in detention?” Spencer turned to me with raised eyebrows. “Wow Trick, you really have changed.” Then he turned back to Tay and introduced himself. We all rose as the bell to signify first class rang. I had Music, Joe and Tay were off to Chemistry together and Spencer informed us that he had Media Studies so we parted ways and headed to our various classrooms. Music was another one of those subjects that none of my friends were taking but I didn’t mind because I just loved the escape. Brendon was also in my Music class and it was the only subject I’d ever seen him pay attention in. Nobody had to worry about any of his spit-balls during Music lessons because he was far too engrossed in what Mr Armstrong was saying.

Sitting in the music room was so distracting; my fingers itched to pick up a guitar or a pair of drumsticks. Mr Armstrong reminded us of the analysis and performance assignment we were working on. We had to each choose a song (working in pairs was allowed but I had no one to work with anyway) and analyse it in detail, as well as performing it to the rest of the class on our chosen instrument. He promised that if we did half an hour of solid theory work he’d give us the rest of the lesson to practise. Everyone else seemed to have chosen a song already and bent their heads, scribbling quietly in their notebooks. I was still dithering between Blink-182’s “Anthem Part 2” and “Not the One” by The Offspring. So far the only work I had done on the assignment was to write my favourite lyrics from each song on a blank page beneath the underlined song title and then proceeded to stare at them as though that would help me choose which I liked best.

Anthem Part 2   
_Let this train wreck burn more slowly,_   
_kids are victims in this story._   
_Drown our youth with useless warnings,_   
_teenage rules, they’re fucked and boring._

Not the One   
_I’m not the one who made the world what it is today,_   
_I’m not the one who caused the problems started long ago,_   
_But now I deal with all the consequences that trouble our times,_   
_I carry on and never once have even questioned why._

I read the lyrics over and over in an attempt to make my decision easier. It didn’t work. I found myself tapping my pen against my desk as I waited for the answer to come to me. And strangely enough it did.

“Psst, Stump. What song are you doing?”

I glanced over to see Brendon leaning across to read my notebook. It was strange that he was asking me, considering the fact that we’d never spoken before, but I decided to just go ahead and answer anyway.

“I don’t know yet. I’m still stuck between these two.” I indicated the paper in front of me which he was reading. He raised his head to look at me, grinning as though he were proud of something.

“Nice choices. Those are some really good songs. Never knew you had it in you,” he said and I was beginning to think he was more than just pretty odd, but he had done nothing wrong so I continued to smile and be polite.

“What about you?” I asked, wondering if we shared any other similarities in music taste.

“I got nothing. But hey, since you like Blink as well, maybe – and you’re allowed to say no to this – maybe we could work together?”

Well, I had wanted to get to know the dark haired boy at the back of the class who talked too loudly and laughed a lot.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

“Oh and one more thing Stump, do you know Adam’s Song?”

“No Urie, I am not familiar with possibly the most beautiful and influential song of all time. Yes, of course I know Adam’s Song.” I rolled my eyes at the fact that he even felt it necessary to ask that question.

“Cute boy, glasses, good music taste, knows Adam’s Song. Wentz would be proud.” He grinned at me yet again and pushed a hand through his hair, before he seemed to remember something and continued talking.

“By the way, just because I said you’re cute it doesn’t mean anything. I love Ryan, okay?”

I nodded and he turned back to his own notebook, just as Mr Armstrong came over and shushed us, warning us to get back on task or we wouldn’t be allowed to even go near any instruments today. I didn’t get a chance to ask Brendon what Wentz was but I shrugged it off, figuring it was probably just a friend of his.

One thing I learned that day was that Brendon was extremely talented. He had always been the class singer as we were sorely lacking in that department, so I was fully aware that he had a voice of the Gods. I was not, however, aware that he could play just about _every fucking instrument_ in existence. I was experienced with the majority of instruments in the music room but his list just went on and on and on. Some he preferred more than others, some he only knew enough of to play Hot Cross Buns but still, I had never expected that the annoying, unfocused, I’m-only-here-because-I-have-to-be Brendon Urie would be so talented.

My next period was a free so as soon as Music finished I hurried to the library to drop off my stuff and then left to go to the bathroom, being sure to slide a sharpie into my pocket. Once I’d made it across the oval to the toilets, I pretended to wash my hands until the place emptied, then stepped over to the same urinal I’d used the day before. The writing was still there but I was pleasantly surprised to see more had joined it, written in the same red (which I now noted was almost the exact shade of blood).

_i know you’ve heard this all before_   
_but we’re just hell’s neighbours_   
_why won’t the world revolve around me?_   
_in my dreams trees grow around the streets_

It was written a little lower down and to the left of the previous verse. I wondered if they were part of the same song or if they were parts of different songs. Or maybe they were just ramblings and had nothing to do with anything whatsoever. Even if that was the case, whoever had written it deserved praise. I hadn’t figured out what I wanted to write yet but after reading the new words it all just came to me and I unlidded the pen, poising the blue nib beside the first verse and directly above the second.


End file.
